Déjà Vu
by KelliP
Summary: Running into exes can be awkward. It's even more awkward when your current partner is standing right next to you. Minor spoilers for 5x10 Significant Others.
1. Meredith

**A/N: **There will be six parts to this, only the first of which contains vague spoilers for the general premise of 5x10. Each part that follows will contain a connected story and a different ex. Enjoy.

* * *

**DÉJÀ VU**

* * *

**Meredith**

* * *

The woman was staying with them.

Meredith.

Meredith was staying with Castle and Alexis.

And Beckett was staying there too.

It was awkward. So completely and utterly, red-faced, just-let-me-_die_ awkward. The woman had no boundaries. Invited herself to stay (_for Alexis' sake_, she told them). Walked freely through the loft in nothing but a tight shirt and her underwear. Barged in on them in the _bathroom _when they were covered in nothing but small white towels. To Meredith, it was no big deal. Despite Castle's protests, she remained all too casual, simply throwing him a wink and telling him _she's seen it all before_.

Beckett understood at first. Kind of. Meredith was Alexis' mother. She was Castle's first wife. She will always hold a place in their lives, some sort of place in Castle's heart. But this- staying in his home, while she was also staying here- was too much. Especially considering what happened between the two exes last time the woman had been in town.

It wasn't that she didn't trust Castle. It was that she didn't trust _Meredith_. How much did she really know about the woman, after all? All she knew was the couple had divorced after she'd cheated on him. To Beckett, all that did was solidify her thoughts that Meredith would have no problem with Castle cheating.

So when she walked in to find a red-lipped, mussed hair, and scantily-dressed Meredith standing beside Castle in his bedroom…

Yeah. Awkward.

* * *

When Alexis had first fallen ill and Meredith had invited herself to stay with him, Castle had his hesitations about leaving his ex-wife to care for his daughter. She wasn't a _bad_ parent. Just… absent. He wasn't sure how the woman would handle the situation. Sympathy was never really a strong point of hers.

He was gladly proven wrong. Meredith was ever sympathetic to Alexis. Brought her soup (since when had she learned to cook?), kept up her medicine, drew a comforting bath when her temperature returned to normal.

Of course, this didn't stop her from hitting on Castle the moment their daughter fell asleep.

* * *

It happened that first night. Beckett remained at the precinct to try and make a dent in the never-ending mountain of paperwork that seemed to be a permanent resident on the corner of her desk. Castle, having come home early, walked briskly through the front door, checking on his daughter sleeping on the couch before heading straight for the bathroom. Under the burning blast of the shower, he scrubbed the long day off him before changing into nothing more than a grey undershirt and black lounge pants. After hanging the towel back over the rail to dry, he padded barefoot out of his walk-in-robe, not aware in the slightest for the sight he would find on his bed.

The sight of Meredith perched on the edge of his deep brown duvet, one knee thrown over the other, her hands stretched behind her back as she leaned against them. Her lips were coloured a deep red, eyes smoky, hair tousled. And then there was the matter of the lack of attire she was wearing. Just her underwear and an oversized white shirt that was so transparent she may as well not have bothered to put on.

Castle startled, jumped back a half step, then froze.

"You do realise I'm with Beckett, don't you?" His voice was low, steely. There was no mistaking the contempt that laced it, yet he matched it with an equally cold look for good measure.

Meredith simply shrugged, tossed a strand of curly hair over her shoulder. "Never stopped me before."

"I'm serious about her."

"Oh, come on, _Kitten_," Meredith purred, a pout left on her face, an invitation. One he would have jumped on years ago, but now it was one he didn't give a second-thought to denying.

Castle shot his ex-wife a glare. "Just because you thought it was all right to end our marriage with an affair doesn't mean I'm going to do the same to Kate."

Meredith recoiled at his words, all traces of flirtation sliding off her face. "Richard, that was fifteen years ago. Are you honestly still mad about that?"

He gave an immediate shake of his head. "No. I'm nothing about that. I- I honestly don't care."

The redhead blinked once, something of shock at his admission flashing through her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was so quiet, timid, nothing like the confident, rambunctious Meredith he knew. "I mean nothing to you?"

A disappointed sigh escaped his throat at his ex-wife's attempt to twist his words and earn some sort of sympathy. "That's not what I said. You're my daughter's mother. But- it's a long time since we divorced. Everything has changed since then. I'm with Kate."

There was a long beat before Meredith spoke up quietly. "You're really serious about her."

No hesitation. "Yes."

"Are you going to marry her?"

Castle's heart thumped once in his chest then flat-lined at the immediate answer that sprung to mind.

_Yes_.

"I don't know," he said instead, beginning a ramble to avoid answering. "It's- too soon. We were friends for so long. Even now, we're still in the beginning stages of this."

Meredith swiftly cut him off. She rose from the bed and took two steps toward him, raised her eyebrows knowingly as she spoke. "You want to, though. I can see it in your eyes," she told him. "I won't say it's the way you used to look at me, because it's not. It's different. _More_."

He swallowed the knot that tangled in his throat, offered another indirect response. "She's not ready."

"Doesn't mean you're not."

Castle pressed his lips together. Truth be told, he's not ready either. Though that doesn't mean he hasn't given the idea of a marriage to Kate some serious thought.

Either way, this wasn't a conversation to have with his ex-wife.

In fact, it wasn't a conversation he would even be given the _chance_ to have. In the next moment, a throaty, interrupting cough brought his attention to the presence behind him. Wide-eyed and panicked like a deer caught in headlights, Castle spun around to find his partner standing at the entrance to his bedroom. Beckett wore a stunned expression on her face as she took in the scene in front of her- a red-lipped and scantily dressed Meredith standing just a step away from him. Her eyebrows burrowed in a mix of shock and confusion. She blinked once, eyes shifting between Castle and Meredith until they finally landed on himself.

"The, uh- the door was open," she explained slowly, carefully, trying to read the situation as she threw a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the foyer. "I-"

"I should check on Alexis," Meredith swiftly interrupted. "Excuse me."

Castle blinked in disbelief at his ex-wife. Giving him privacy- that was a first.

The woman didn't take any notice. Just shot the both of them an apologetic smile as she brushed by them and out of the room. Castle tracked the redhead's movements as she exited the room, ensuring Meredith was well and truly gone before spun back to Beckett with an apology written all over his face.

"I can explain," he started.

Beckett pressed her lips together, nodded once as she waited for his explanation.

"She- I just found her in here," he started off poorly. "Nothing- I mean, we didn't-"

"Castle?" Beckett interrupted. "Just stop talking."

He froze, studied her face carefully. Her skin was smooth, no frown, no anger. Her lips weren't pressed into a tight line. They were full, almost curling up at the edges. And there was something resembling amusement lighting up her eyes.

"I-"

He was met with a hand held up to his face. Castle clamped down on his tongue, holding the words back. "You'll just dig yourself into a deeper hold," she told him on a breath of laughter.

Castle shifted on the spot, unsure of the detective's apparent acceptance of the situation. "But-"

With a roll of her eyes, Beckett quickly crossed the room. She grabbed the side of his lips with one hand and pinched them together to silence him. Ever persistent, he tried to keep talking, the words mumbled and not at all understandable. It was only when she shot him the same warning look she used on perps did he finally fall silent.

"I don't want to know," Beckett spoke carefully, her fingers still clamped over his mouth. "I _know_ nothing happened, but why she was in here dressed like _that_? I don't want to know."

"Bu-"

Her hold on his lips tightened, and nothing but a muffle in his throat could be heard. Defeated, he fell silent once again.

"I know in the past, you two have… _reconnected_." She chose her words carefully, but the slight raising of her eyebrows and jealous flash in her eyes told him exactly what she was talking about. "I also know that will stay in the past. For you, at least.

"But for her to try something like that while your daughter is sick on the couch and I'm staying under the same roof? It's not on, Castle. You need to make that clear," she told him. "And I'm not going to say you have to kick her out, because as uncomfortable as it makes me that she's staying here, she has a right to see her daughter. But maybe if you could just… suggest she stay in a hotel next time?"

With no ability to voice his understanding and agreement, Castle nodded without pause. Beckett studied him carefully for a moment, eyes trailing over the lines of his face, taking in his sincerity. Finally, she pressed her lips together, as if willing herself to do it, and let go.

"I love you," he blurted out.

Castle could kick himself. He hadn't said those three words to her since they had started dating, not to mention they weren't the best of circumstances when he'd said them before. So he pressed his lips together and held his breath as he waited in suspense of Beckett's reaction.

She simply let a sweet smile take over her lips and ducked her head as her cheeks flushed a light pink. "I know," she whispered.

Castle curled a finger under the point of her chin and lifted her head so he could slant his lips across hers.

She met him halfway, all too eager to celebrate.

* * *

Limbs tangled with one another and the sheets of his bed, both refused to move as their breathing slowed down from sharp bursts to a steady calm. She was curled up against his side, lips open and hot as they pressed against his bare skin. Castle threw an arm over her shoulder, skimmed the tips of his fingers up and down her arm, leaving her shivering in their wake.

"So, what were you doing home so early?" he asked.

From the angle they both lay, he watched as Beckett arched an eyebrow at his choice of words.

"Uh- I mean, here. To my home," he fumbled with a squeak. "What happened to the paperwork?"

She offered a slight shrug of her shoulder. "Decided it would keep till morning," she told him. "Much rather come home to this then spend the night at the precinct hunched over my computer."

He dropped a brief kiss to her forehead in agreement with her choice before he relaxed back against the pillow. Staring upward, the bright white of the ceiling acted as a canvas for the film playing over in his head.

A diamond ring. Beckett's whispered _yes_. An engagement party. A wedding. A marriage. A-

A marriage.

Oh, no.

That's when the reality of the conversation he'd had with Meredith, the reality of the conversation Beckett may have overheard, finally settled in. She wasn't ready, but-

Did she overhear?

"When you arrived, you-" Castle gulped, broke off at the knot of panic in his throat.

Beckett hummed, her head rising up off the sheets to arch a questioning eyebrow.

"You, ah- you didn't hear any of the conversation did you?"

There was a beat of panic, but then Beckett shook her head in response. "No," she spoke quietly, letting her head fall back to rest on the pillow beside his. "Anything important?"

He breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want her spinning into a panic over talk of marriage when they were still years away from that step.

"Just some plans of mine," is all he offered.

* * *

Beckett didn't sleep that night, the conversation she had lied about hearing played over and over, an endless loop in her mind.

"_Are you going to marry her?"_

"_She's not ready."_

"_Doesn't mean you're not."_

Marriage. She wasn't ready. Castle was.

But for the first time in her life, she didn't want to run from the relationship.

She just wanted to keep diving in.


	2. Demming

**DÉJÀ VU**

* * *

**Demming**

* * *

From the moment she hopped out of the car and planted a foot on the sidewalk outside the old six-floor walk up, it was a circus. The media were everywhere, their shouts demanding answers deafening and bright flashes to capture the moment blinding. Beckett ducked her head, pushed through the crowd with the aide of one of the uniforms until she emerged in the privacy of the foyer.

It didn't stop there, though. Gates broke away from her conversation the moment Beckett arrived, rounding on her in the next. Even if not for her presence at the crime scene alone, the stern expression etched on her face told her this was no joke. "We need this solved quickly, Detective," her Captain ordered.

Beckett gave a quick nod in understanding of the situation at hand before brushing by the woman to meet Esposito. He was standing at the base of the staircase, waiting for her. With a solemn nod, he led her up to the fourth-floor landing and through to the crime scene.

She paused at the sight in front of her, took a moment to remember the victim for the life he'd lived. Andrew Holden. He was one of their own, Captain of the Eighteenth Precinct. A real legend. Helped to crack the murder of the former Mayor of New York not two weeks ago. Spent his entire life on the force, just a few short months away from retirement. A family man, with a wife of almost thirty years, three children of their own, and two grandchildren.

He was the last person who deserved a fate such as this.

Beckett wandered over to where Holden lay, crouched beside Perlmutter. "Prelim?" she asked in a low voice.

For once, the man made no sarcastic comment. "TOD looks to be sometime between ten and three," he responded solemnly. "Cause of death appears to be blunt force trauma, likely caused by this." The M.E. pointed to the bloody decorative figurine that lay beside the body, a clear object of opportunity.

"So it wasn't planned," she murmured. Holden was just home at the wrong time.

"The murder might not have been planned, but the killer was definitely after something," Esposito spoke up.

Beckett pushed off the balls of her feet, rose to a stand once again. Ryan and Esposito were behind her, notepads in their hands in wait to fill her in. She met their gaze, signalled for them to continue.

"Not only are the back rooms trashed," Ryan started with a nod to the hallway at the other end of the living room, "But the safe in the bedroom was pried open and cleaned out. Given the media circus outside, Gates called in Robbery to give a hand. Holden's family is currently flying back from Seattle, so Demming is on the phone with the insurance company now, trying to work up a preliminary list of items that may have been taken."

At the mention of her ex's name, Beckett paused and arched an eyebrow at Ryan. "Demming?" she asked carefully.

"Right here," a voice called out over her shoulder.

That was when she spun around to come face-to-face with none other than Detective Tom Demming.

* * *

Castle flew into LaGuardia two days later, yet two days ahead of schedule. He'd been over the on the West Coast in sunny L.A., visiting the set of _Naked Heat_ to help flush out some details that weren't quite translating on the screen during filming. Drawing on some sort of luck, he'd finished his collaborations with the producers ahead of schedule. With nothing keeping him in California, he opted to take the next flight back to New York, all too eager to get back to his partner that was waiting for him in the city.

Arriving early had its downsides, though. The car service was booked solid for the day, leaving him to stand in the cab rank as the ice-cold wind whipped around him and bit at his face. Castle shoved his hands into the pocket and ducked his head against the cold snap as he waited to move to the front of the queue.

It wasn't until a solid forty-five minutes later did Castle finally grab the small suitcase from the trunk of the cab and jump out onto the sidewalk in front of the Twelfth. At only five-thirty on a Thursday afternoon, he knew without a doubt Beckett would still be at work. Without a little encouragement from him, it could be hours before she packed up for the night and headed back to the empty loft. So plastering a smile on his face and holding his arms open dramatically, Castle planted one foot on the bottom step leading up to the grand front doors of the precinct when he saw her.

Them.

At the quaint café that had opened up next to the precinct, Beckett was sitting with none other than the ex-boyfriend she'd once chosen over him. They sat with their backs to him, side-by-side, the only room left in the mess of crowded tables that wouldn't result in bumping knees with the other patrons. Two empty coffee mugs sat in front of them as they chatted with smiles on their faces.

Castle paused with one foot on the sidewalk and the other stretched up onto the bottom step. He blinked, eyebrows knitting together as he took in the sight of his partner chatting, smiling, _laughing_ with her ex. Unease flipped over in his gut before it knotted his insides tight together.

He wasn't jealous. He wasn't. He had been with Kate for two years. They lived together. Their relationship was solid. He wasn't jealous.

Except he was.

It was irrational. Completely irrational. He knew that, he did, but there was something primal awakening within him that shot a spear of anger through his veins. It bellowed with a loud echo in his head, demanding attention. Demanding he act now and think later.

Then there was the writer's side of him. The side that was always curious, wondering people's stories. The side that imagined the lives people lived. Right now, it too was hollering inside his head, urging him to take a step or two closer and just _listen_.

Against his better judgement, he did.

Castle stepped up slowly behind the two occupants at the end table, ears pricking up as they strained to catch the conversation. Just as he crept up close enough, Demming shrugged.

"This case is a mess," the robbery detective blew out on a sigh.

"Doesn't mean you don't deserve some time off," Beckett told him. "The precinct is always interrupting. You just have to find time wherever you can."

"So, dinner, then?" Demming murmured. "Tomorrow night? Le Cirque?"

"Le Cirque sounds lovely," Beckett responded softly. "Very romantic."

"Flowers?"

"Definitely."

"Champagne?"

Castle's partner shook her head. "Hold off on the champagne until dessert." She paused for a moment, then chuckled softly. "Or, you know- after."

"After?"

The accusing word shot out of Castle's mouth before his mind could censor it. He clapped a hand over his mouth as if trying to take it back, but the damage was done. Both Beckett and Demming twisted in their seats at the sound of his interrupting voice, craning their necks as they stared up at him in surprise.

"Castle?" Beckett gaped, eyes wide as she took in his sudden presence. "What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming back until Sunday night?"

Her brain seemingly catching up with the situation, the homicide detective scrambled out of the wrought-iron seat, moving for him. Castle interrupted before she had a chance to enclose him in an embrace.

"I thought I'd surprise you," he spoke, voice steely. "I didn't realise I'd be the one getting the surprise."

Beckett recoiled at his word, rocking back on her heels as if to gauge his mood. "What's that supposed to mean?"

His eyes shifted to rest on Demming for just a moment before they shot Beckett an accusing look. "You've been hanging out with your ex?"

She grabbed his elbow roughly, fingers digging harsh and surely leaving an impression in his skin even though his jacket. Without pause, she dragged him away from the table where Demming sat awkwardly, moving over to the edge of the sidewalk. Not private at all and easily in plain sight of Demming, but just far enough where they could argue without interruption.

"We've been _working_," she growled. "Trying to solve the murder of another cop."

Her explanation didn't ease the jealousy still gnawing at his insides. "And the dinner plans?"

"Not that it _would_ matter if I had dinner with an old _friend_," she emphasised on a growl, "but they were for his girlfriend. We were planning his proposal. Which is now tarnished, thanks to you."

Castle paused, the guilt settling a concrete weight in his stomach. "His-"

"Just save it, Castle," she swiftly interrupted, holding up her hands to end the apology on his tongue. "This jealousy? Get over it."

With that, she left him to stand alone on the sidewalk outside the Twelfth Precinct, the diamond ring in his own breast pocket heavy as it burned a hole through his heart.

* * *

After the quickest of awkward apologies to Demming, Castle attempted to chase Beckett, but it was to no avail. She was long gone, her Dodge Charger already having screeched from its parking space underneath the precinct. Jumping straight into Plan B, he whipped out his cell to call and beg her to come back but-

Out of battery. Damn. He'd forgotten he used up the last minutes of battery life playing Angry Birds on the plane.

With the guilt still eating away at him, he flagged down a passing taxi, all but shouting his address at the driver. With hopeful eyes scanning the traffic for her car, his knee bounced impatiently the entire ride home. When the driver finally double-parked outside his building to let him out, Castle barely glanced at the notes he passed to the driver, and only stopped long enough to hoist his suitcase from the trunk before he scrambled into the foyer. The elevator ride was long, the silence deafening, but it gave him time to write out an apology in his head. Jamming his key in the front lock, he forced open the door with his body as he burst through.

"Beckett, I-"

Castle broke off. She wasn't here.

"Kate?" His voice travelled easily through the open spaces of the loft as he called out, but she didn't respond. With a frown, he wandered into their bedroom.

It was empty.

Castle paused in the middle of their bedroom, taking in the empty space around him. It had been so long since he'd been the only one in the loft. When both Alexis and his mother had moved out, Beckett moved in a week later. If he were writing, he never felt alone, the world he created with his words dancing in his mind and keeping him comfort. Now, though, the city noise outside the window sounded louder than ever, reminding him of his loneliness in the crowded city.

Letting out a sigh, he scrubbed his face with his hands and tried to clear his mind. He needed a plan to apologise. Phoning her from the landline resulted in reaching nothing but her voicemail. No progress on the apology. For now, at least. Night was quickly falling over the city, and it wouldn't be long before she would return home.

Dinner. He should cook dinner. Something that involved an effort, and open her favourite bottle of red for accompaniment. First though- a shower. The flight back from the west coast had been tiresome, left him feeling worn out from the dry cabin air. He shrugged out of his jacket, laying it carefully across the end of the bed so not to crease before kicking off his shoes. Then he moved for the bathroom, hoping Beckett would be home by the time he shut off the hot spray.

* * *

She was.

Castle saw her the moment he closed the bathroom door to stop the steam from escaping and wandered into the bedroom. She was perched at the foot of the bed, her back turned to him and head bowed low. His heart dropped at the sight of her, and so he paused underneath the archway to wait for her acknowledgement of his presence.

She didn't offer it. He spoke up anyway.

"I'm sorry," Castle apologised softly.

No response.

"Kate, I'm sorry," he continued. "It was just- I don't know. Some sort of leftover jealousy from when you the two of you dated. It doesn't mean I don't trust you. It doesn't mean I don't love you."

Beckett didn't respond, just kept her head bowed low. Castle crossed the room carefully, moving slowly around the bed until he stood before her. It was only then did she finally acknowledge him, her head lifted ever so slowly until she stared up at him with a blank face and unblinking eyes.

"Kate?"

Then he saw it.

"We were both mad," she spoke softly, distantly. "I shouldn't have yelled. I wanted to do something nice for you, as an apology. So I started dinner, and unpacked your case, and went to hang your jacket up when…"

She trailed off. He knew the rest.

He knew she found the engagement ring he had hidden away in the breast pocket.

"You-" Beckett cut herself off, gathered her thoughts. "Were you planning to-"

"Yes," he murmured his answer to her unfinished question. "I thought… maybe tonight? Figured you'd be more inclined on saying yes if you were happy to see me."

Beckett let out a shaky breath, peered up at him softly under wet lashes. "You don't need to butter me up, Castle. You just need to ask."

* * *

Beckett's precinct rules be damned- Castle couldn't help but gloat when Demming noticed the rock on her finger the following morning. The other detective stood awkwardly on the sidelines as Ryan and Esposito and the rest of the bullpen gathered around to clap the couple on their shoulder and extend congratulations. When the crowd died down a long few minutes later and the room scattered back to work, Demming finally shuffled over awkwardly.

"Congratulations," he offered with a polite nod. "That- it's great news."

Castle responded with an enthusiastic nod of his own that matched the smirk he'd been sporting all morning. "It _is_ great news, isn't it?" the writer responded in an over-cheery tone.

Without giving his fiancé or her ex any further chance to speak, Castle swiftly cupped her cheek with an open palm and slanted his lips across hers. It took a moment of shock before she recovered and he felt her lips move with his. All too soon, though, Beckett planted two flat palms on his chest and pushed him away, but there was a hint of a smile cracking on her lips.

"Don't need to mark your territory," she murmured into his ear, soft enough so Demming's ears wouldn't catch her words. "It's not a competition. You've already got me."

Castle scoffed. It most definitely _was_ a competition.

And he got the girl.

* * *

**A/N:** I know I just wrote another proposal… but I wanted this story to evolve with each part. Hope it was enjoyable nonetheless. Kelli.


	3. Gina

**A/N:** Wonderful to hear how you are all enjoying this. Thank you for the encouragement.

* * *

**DÉJÀ VU**

* * *

**Gina**

* * *

"Honestly, Gina- complaining about it now isn't going to change a thing. Why bother?"

Castle's second ex-wife ignored the irate glare he shot her. Just rolled her eyes and shifted her stance, placing a bold hand on her hip as she refused to just _back off_.

"Richard, you shouldn't have booked-"

"It's my honeymoon," he growled. "I'll book it whenever I damned-well please."

"All I'm saying is you could have picked a better time to go," she tried to reason with him. "Two weeks after your book hits stands is no time to be traipsing off to Europe. You have work that needs to be done, publicity to be aired, books to be sold."

The writer let out a deep groan, scrubbed his face with open palms, trying to will away the problem standing before him.

His first split with Gina had been amicable. Both had tried to make their marriage last, but both had agreed to the divorce. They'd just… fallen out of love. But ever since the breakup of their rekindled romance, tension had been high between the publisher and the author. Their professional relationship was now strained, the politeness from their usual conversations having dissolved to leave only snapped words and childish retaliations.

"I'm not traipsing off anywhere," he responded, trying to hold back the bite in his voice. "I'm enjoying my honeymoon with my wife. I'm sure my career will survive a blackout for a few weeks."

"Just understand where I'm coming from," Gina started on a plea, but Castle cut her off with an insistent hand to the face.

"Why can't you understand where _I'm_ coming from?" he hissed. "We arranged a six-month deadline instead of my usual twelve. All I'm asking for is a few months to spend with my new wife without constant harassment to meet deadlines."

"People don't want to wait a year and a half for another novel, Richard."

Castle suppressed the groan in his throat, let it rumble on his vocal chords in frustration. Gina was relentless.

"Time away doesn't translate into nothing to publish," he argued. "You know as well as I do that when I have an idea I can't get anything done until it's out of my head."

Gina blew out a sigh, growing tired of their conversation through clenched jaws. "Richard, you pay me to sell your books. I suggest you give me something to work with."

Castle stood his ground. "No, Gina. I pay you to figure out a solution."

With that, he spun on his heels to leave his publisher scowling at him in his wake.

* * *

_For Kate, for whom none of this would have been possible without._

A blushing smile curled up on her face as she read the words over, tracing the print with her fingertips. It was the first time Castle had out-right named her in one of his dedications. Years ago she would have responded with a bruising pinch of his arm and a threatening growl in his ear. Now- seven Nikki Heat novels and an engagement ring later- her entire world had shifted on its axis. Tonight, she simply clutched the novel between careful hands, not daring to ruin the crisp pages.

The door she'd come through flew open suddenly, hitting back on its hinges with a force that rattled the entire frame. Beckett pushed off the wall she'd been resting against and blinked the scene into focus.

"Everything okay?" she called out softly.

Castle startled, pausing in his paced tracks at the sound of her voice. He glanced around, taking in the sight of her standing alone out the back of the restaurant.

Recovering, he arched a questioning eyebrow at her. "Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"

"I'm not the one hiding from my own book party," she shot back. Even so, she moved for him. Setting the book down onto the nearby countertop, she swept one hand softly through the hair at his temple whilst the other kissed his neck with an open palm.

At her touch, he let out a defeated sigh. "Gina."

Ah. Publisher and ex-wife was evidently not a well thought-out combination.

"I'd say never get involved with someone you work with," continued Castle, "but I think it's a little late for us now."

Beckett chuckled. A little late it was. The ticking over of the calendar onto today's date marked only two short weeks left until they walked down the aisle.

With a soft voice, she encouraged him to open up. "What did she say?"

In her mind, she knew there were always two sides to Castle's stories. She was sure Gina was often doing nothing more than a job he didn't understand. But having his current partner side with his ex-wife would do nothing to stop the reservations in his ability to be a good husband from overwhelming Castle.

He blew out a sigh before continuing, angled his head away from her. "Giving me more grief over the honeymoon."

She bit down on her lip, guilt settling in. "I'm sorry."

The writer dismissed her apology with a shake of his head. "Not your fault."

"It is," she argued. "If-"

"Kate, please. Just stop," he strained, silencing her. "I don't want to fight with you too."

She fell silent for a long moment after that, clamping down on the argument that sizzled on her tongue, demanding to be released. Castle was feeling the stress with this latest book release enough as it was. Planning a wedding didn't spare much time to write a novel, let alone one with a deadline cut in half. He'd met the deadline to have the novel sent to print by just hours, not sleeping for weeks on end as he pounded out sentence after sentence, determined to have it finished before the wedding.

"You can tell her," she eventually whispered, unable to restrain herself.

Castle didn't respond. Just squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring her.

"If it makes it easier, you can tell her."

"The date is just between us," he spoke in a low voice. "She doesn't get to know that."

Beckett let a beat pass by before she whispered, "I'm sorry."

Castle finally opened his eyelids then, lifting his eyes to meet her. She met them with a silent apology, which he acknowledged only by raising his hands from where they'd been hanging by his side and encircling his arms around her waist.

"Did you read the dedication?" he asked quietly, changing the subject.

She responded with a small nod. "I don't deserve it."

"You do."

"You were writing long before you met me."

"You did give me inspiration when I had none, but I wasn't talking about the books." Beckett felt the weight of Castle's hand lift off her waist before it rose to touch the engagement finger on her left hand.

Oh.

Without pause, Beckett closed what little distance remained between them and slanted her lips across his. Castle returned the kiss lovingly, eagerly. She sighed as he parted her mouth, his hands cupping her cheeks for just a moment before tangling in her hair. The protest of ruining her curls was on her tongue for barely a moment before Castle crowded her into the wall, and suddenly she was on autopilot.

Her mind was blissfully blank, hands moving with a perfected skill to slip his jacket off his shoulders and tug at his shirt. He groaned into her mouth as she grazed her fingernails across his bare back, his own fingers frustrated as they skimmed down her body but couldn't quite reach the hem of her dress.

"Not- private," she gasped as his lips found her neck. Even with her words, her fingers clasped around his belt, tugging at it desperately.

Castle silenced her objection by covering her mouth with a bruising kiss. With that, she didn't care. Just unclipped his belt and moved for his zipper when-

The door burst open, knocking back loud against the wall with an interrupting thump. A startled cry was elicited just a second later as the sight of the two partners tangled together halted the click of heels. Beckett tore her lips from Castle's, covered her mouth with an embarrassed hand as her eyes flicked to the doorway.

Gina.

Of course.

"Can we help you?" Castle growled at his ex-wife. His chest was heaving against hers, doing nothing to steady her pounding heart. She didn't move, though. However not private their current location was, the woman had interrupted them. How uncomfortable the publisher felt was up to her.

Recovering from the surprise she'd found behind the closed door, the blonde publisher shot the writer an unamused look.

"It's time you address the crowd," Gina told him in a dry voice. She eyed them both up and down before continuing. "Once you dress yourself, of course."

* * *

After stuffing his shirt into his pants and picking up his jacket from where it had fallen in a heap to the floor, Castle pressed one last kiss to her lips before slipping out of the room. Beckett waited another minute, using her phone to fix her ruined hair and reapply her smeared lipstick before sneaking out of the room after him. She hadn't even made it out of the doorway when she paused.

Leaning against the wall right beside the door was Gina, a dry expression on her face as she eyed Beckett. The detective unfroze and closed the door behind her before stepping up to the publisher. She may have long let go of the time Castle chose his ex-wife over her for the summer, but right now in Beckett's eyes, the woman was nothing more than the publisher that wouldn't stop harassing her partner.

"The date of the wedding means something to us," she started in a low voice.

Gina blinked, confused with the sudden conversation. "I'm sorry?"

"There's a reason we chose two Saturday's time for the wedding," she explained. "And Castle didn't want to spend the first few months of our marriage stressed about deadlines and holed up in meetings, so the two of you arranged a six-month deadline for his next novel, and he met it. I'm sorry this inconveniences you- I am- but I'm not sorry we chose it. You need to stop harping on about it. Castle feels bad enough as it is; has been stressed enough trying to meet the deadline."

The publisher clicked her tongue as she took in Beckett's words. "It's his job to meet his deadlines."

"And it's _your_ job to sell his books," Beckett countered.

Intent on leaving it with that, the brunette took two steps forward to leave, but Gina caught her elbow. "I didn't know. About the date," she half-apologised in a hushed tone. "Richard- he didn't tell me."

Beckett pressed her lips together, considering the sincerity of her words. "I know," she responded. "He didn't think it was any of your business. And he's right. It's not, but if telling you is what it takes to cut him some slack…"

She trailed off, nothing further to say. An awkward silence fell between the two for a moment, each weighting up the right time to leave, when Gina spoke up.

"You're good for him," she admitted.

Beckett kept her disagreement silent. The woman had it the wrong way around.

Castle was good for her.

* * *

From where she rest against the back wall, Beckett clutched her copy of _Explosive Heat_ and shot her partner standing up on the podium a smile. He paused for a moment, lips curling up at the edges as if he'd been let in on a heart-pounding secret. When he resumed his address to the crowd, she shifted the weight of the novel into her left hand whilst her right travelled almost subconsciously to twist at sparkling ring she wore.

The fourteenth of March, 2015, was just two short weeks away.

The day of their wedding.

It would also be sixteen years to the day since she first opened one of Richard Castle's novels.


	4. Sorenson

**DÉJÀ VU**

* * *

**Sorenson**

* * *

The air was brisk, the harsh bite of winter having lifted from the air but the sun not shining quite enough through the clouds to warm the city. Beckett swirled a purple cotton scarf around her neck, knotting it below her chin for warmth. Tugging her hair out from where it had caught in the scarf, she exited the bathroom to reach for where she'd left her black trench coat hanging across the end of the bed when she sighed.

"I thought I told you to dress," she commented to a still very naked Castle.

From where he lay stretched across the bed on his stomach, he shook his head. "It's our honeymoon."

"I want to explore. Absorb the culture, the history."

He protested with another shake of his head. "I don't think you understand how a honeymoon works," he started slowly, voice low and husky. "We're newlyweds. We're supposed to spend as much time in this bed as possible. And if not for us, do it for the room. It's the honeymoon suite. The room, this bed- they _expect _sex." He slid his hands across the satin sheets slowly, arched an inviting eyebrow at her.

As enticing as the offer was, Beckett didn't concede. Instead, she picked up a pair of boxers that sit atop the pile of clothes in his suitcase and threw them at him. "Castle, we're in Paris," she countered. "The past few days have been fun, but I want to see the city."

Castle sighed in defeat, rolling off the bed to plant two sleepy feet on the ground. "So, this is how it's going to work now you're my wife?" he commented as he stuffed his legs into the boxers. "You bossing me around?"

Beckett shot him a look. "Be careful there, Tiger. You're on a slippery slope."

He was halfway to the bathroom when he paused, a crack of a smile on his lips as he couldn't stop himself from throwing out one last offer. "You sure I can't persuade you to join me in the shower?"

"No dice, sorry," she declined. "But if you hop in now, I promise to make it up to you later."

* * *

"I cannot _believe_ you got us arrested."

From his spot on the harsh metal bench beside her, Castle offered her his best puppy-dog face, complete with wide eyes, a quivering chin, and pout. "In my defence, I didn't realise there was a police station just across the park."

She levelled a glare at him. "And that makes it okay? Castle, we're spending out _honeymoon_ in a Paris lockup."

He pressed his lips together, voice light when he finally spoke. "I'm sorry?"

"You'd better be," she growled.

He placed a hand that was anything but innocent on her knee. His fingers dipped over the edge, ever so slowly tracing up the inside of her thigh, applying swirls of pressure as they moves. "I'll make it up to you," his voice dipped low as he murmured into the shell of her ear.

Beckett swatted at his hand in discouragement. "Are you _really_ still thinking about sex right now? It's what got us into this mess in the first place."

He withdrew his hand from her reach. "If I recall, you were a very willing participant."

"How are you so nonchalant about this?" She whipped her head around, eyebrows knitting together as she questioned him. "This isn't the Twelfth, Castle. They don't know who we are. My badge is worthless here. We don't have connections to make the charges go away."

He shrugged and leaned back against the concrete wall casually, tucking the arm that wasn't handcuffed to the bench behind his head for support. "I trust you to get us out of this."

She blinked. "Are you even _listening_ to me? What do you think _I_ can do?"

"Just talk to them. Explain that we're on our honeymoon. That we're in the city of love, and we couldn't help-"

"Okay," she cut him off quickly. "Even if that story wasn't embarrassing enough, the officer didn't speak English."

"So? You speak French. I know you said it wasn't perfect, but surely it's enough to-"

Beckett rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated huff. "I don't speak French, you idiot."

Castle froze. "I- what?"

"I. Don't. Speak. French," she repeated, punctuating each word for effect. "I took Spanish in high school and Russian in college. Unless you want me to invite them into bed, I know absolutely no French that can help us out of this mess."

His face scrunched with confusion, a look that would have been adorable in any other situation. "But last night-"

"Oh my god, Castle." Beckett clapped a hand over her mouth to cover a bark of laughter. "I made that all up. I thought you knew I was just putting on the accent?"

"No, I did not," he grumbled. "Thank you for ruining the illusion that my smoking hot wife knew the sexy language of love."

"Don't blame me. If you hadn't gotten us arrested on our holiday _again_, you could have still been happily under your little illusion."

Castle gaped. "When have I ever done this before?"

"Don't you remember our first weekend to the Hamptons? Where you insisted on pissing off the local Sherriff?"

He paused for a beat before conceding. "All right. I take responsibility for that, but if I recall _you_ were the one who insisted on leaving the hotel this morning. _I _was perfectly happy to stay in bed all day."

"Well if you could've just kept it in your pants for a little longer, we wouldn't be in this situation."

Across from them in lockup, their cellmate snorted, a drunk Frenchman who Beckett had thought was asleep. Now, she arched an eyebrow and shot him a warning look. "Can I help you?"

"You two funny," the man slurred.

"This is a private conversation," she growled at him.

"Oh, come on, Kate," Castle groaned beside her. "Where's he supposed to go?"

"Well he could shut his ears," she snapped. "Or at least pretend as if he isn't listening."

"I'm sure he won't even remember any of this come tomorrow."

The drunk let out another hiccupping snort of laughter, and a smile cracked on his lips as he now openly watched their bickering. Beckett levelled a glare at him, but made no further attempt to silence the man. In the next moment a fourth person interrupted them.

"Martin Marchal?"

The drunk lifted his head to stare absently in the direction of his name. Beckett followed his line of sight to study the officer standing outside the holding cell. The man spoke incomprehensible French to Martin, but suddenly the drunk was stumbling to his feet as the officer signalled to someone standing at the end of the hallway.

"I leave now," Martin half-apologised to them, his words blending together so they were barely coherent.

Castle blew out a sigh and sagged back against the concrete wall. "Great. Now we can go back to fighting in peace."

Beckett rolled her eyes. "You know, Castle-"

"Kate?"

At her name, Beckett snapped her head around.

"Will?"

* * *

Will.

Will Sorenson, her ex-boyfriend, was here. In Paris. While she was on her honeymoon with Castle.

And while they were trapped in a French holding cell with no escape.

Beside her, Beckett heard a groan rumble through Castle's chest. "Of course," he muttered under his breath.

She didn't bother scowling at him. Just stared wide-eyed and panicked at the ex-boyfriend standing on the other side of the bars.

"What the hell are you doing in jail, Kate?" he questioned, voice breathy as he tried to hold back a round of laughter.

"They arrested," the drunk slurred out all too happily. "For nudity."

Oh, no.

"Public indecency," Martin continued obliviously.

No. No, no.

This wasn't happening.

Beckett's cheeks flushed a deep red, and she squeezed her eyes shut in humiliation. Even so, she heard Will bark out a round of laughter. "Public indecency. Really, Kate?"

She gritted her teeth and levelled a glare at him. "Are you going to help us or not?"

For a long moment Sorenson did nothing but carefully study both Castle and herself, his eyes flicking between the two as he attempted to piece together the situation. It wasn't until she growled out his name in warning did he tap the guard on the shoulder and mutter to him in fluent French. When he had picked up that skill Beckett didn't know, but she listened with intent interest as he pointed to the pair of them and threw a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the exit.

When the conversation was over, Beckett raised her eyebrows at her Will. "So?"

"I'm going to sign for your release," he told her, albeit with a little reluctance in his voice.

An escape. Thank God.

It was awkward- so completely red-faced and just let me die awkward- as Beckett and Castle followed Will through the row of holding cells toward the officer's desk. Completely unorganised, the man took his time finding the paperwork for their release, and even longer to fill it in. The tense silence that hung over the group was thick and suffocating as they waited. Will made no attempt to hide the curious glances he exchanges between Castle and herself in an attempt to read into the situation a little more. Neither did the drunk, who was smiling all too happily as he watched the situation unfold. Castle, on the other hand, was sulking silently behind her, a pout on his face as he grumbled under his breath.

"All right- Mister Castle, Miss Beckett, you are free to go," the French guard spoke up.

Beckett had to suppress the frustration that threatened to spill at the man's apparent ability but stubborn reluctance to speak English. Instead, she thanked her lucky stars that at least her surname had for now remained the same on her passport. The whole reason she and Will split was commitment- that _she_ couldn't commit to him and to his lifestyle, even if there were a ring on her finger. It was her honeymoon and Castle was already moping along behind her; no need to give Will any more ammunition and worsen the situation, however light he thought his jokes might be.

The moment they were once again in the daylight of Paris, she turned to Will, questioning him with a voice that was carefully composed. "Do we need to pay you back for bail, or-"

Sorenson shook his head to cut her off. "No. It was all dropped."

She gave him one nod but said nothing. Instead, she turned to Castle, who shot her a look that screamed _can we go now?_

Sorenson caught on, quickly taking a step backward to leave. "Well, I have to get this guy-" He shook Martin gently by the arm, "-back to my offices for questioning."

She offered her ex a tight smile and a nod of her head. "Thank you again."

He nodded along casually. "It was good seeing you, Kate."

Behind her, Castle interrupted territorially with an overly loud throat clearing.

"And good to see you too, Castle," Sorenson added, an undertone of reluctance to his voice.

No other words were exchanged. Eager to get away quickly and try and return the romance to their honeymoon, Beckett curled both hands around Castle's elbow, leaning against his side as she began to lead him away.

Of course, there was no helping the French drunk who couldn't stop from shouting out as Sorenson escorted him away.

"Enjoy the rest of your honeymoon!"


	5. Jacinda

**A/N:** Apologies for the delay. Summer is well and truly here, which means my time is divided between the beach, the pool, and making more cocktails.

* * *

**DÉJÀ VU**

* * *

**Jacinda**

* * *

"Castle, when I said we should take a vacation, I was thinking somewhere a little more… exotic." Beckett closed the distance between them, gently scraping her nails up and down his chest as she continued. "You know- Bora Bora, Seychelles, maybe somewhere in the Greek Islands…"

"You realise there will be beaches in-"

"That will be overridden with tourists," she swiftly cut him off. "I am _not_ a tourist in my own country."

Castle swallowed a sigh in his throat. "You don't have to come," he told her, slipping both arms around her waist and tugging her against his chest.

The guilt nibbled at her heart, caused her to gently shake her head before she even knew what she was doing. "No. I said I would come. I'm not backing out on you now. Just- for future reference? There are other places- more _private_ places- we can holiday."

"Point noted. And, thank you." He lowered his lips to slant across hers in a grateful kiss. "But Kate, it's a free week in L.A. courtesy of the studio. How can you complain?"

"That's my second point." She narrowed her eyes at him. "It's not a vacation if you're working."

"I'll be on the set two days _tops_," he promised. "I don't even _need_ to be there, but who's going to turn down a free invitation to L.A.? Besides, if you really don't want to come to the studio with me, there'll be plenty for you to do while I'm out."

Beckett quirked a disbelieving eyebrow at him. "Like what? Sightsee? _Shop_? I can do that here."

"Oh, Beckett, Beckett, Beckett…" He clicked his tongue. "It's a five-star resort. You can head to the spa, or have a cocktail by the pool… read the advanced copy of _Explosive Heat_ I secured for you while you work on your tan… start up our very own private Jacuzzi for when I return…"

She pressed her lips together to fight the smirk as Castle wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "All right, Stud. You've made you point. Now help me pack so we can actually _get_ there. And if you promise to keep all complaints about packing to yourself, I promise to pack that little red bikini you love so much."

* * *

"Ladies and gentleman, we are now ready for departure. Please fasten your seatbelts and ensure all electronic equipment is now switched off."

Beckett let her head fall back against the padded headrest, only vaguely listening to the safety announcements as her eyes fluttered shut. At barely seven in the morning and having been up for hours already, she had all intentions of exploiting the first-class seats to hopefully catch another couple of hours of shut-eye.

"Kate?"

Of course not.

Beckett opened her eyes again at the sound of her whispered name to find Castle half-leaning over the thick armrest. "Yes?"

"Are you sure you don't want some coffee?" He held up the Venti takeaway cup he'd ordered to share in an offering.

Her head pounded, clouded by a storm that had settled over her as a result of the early flight in combination with a lack of caffeine pounded down on her head. It shot a cutting frustration through her at Castle's question, the same one she'd already answered four times with _no_. Even so, she managed to bite it back. It wasn't his fault she was anything but a morning person.

"I think I'm just going to sleep off the caffeine headache," she told him.

He nodded calmly. "Okay."

Castle settled back in his seat then to leave her in peace, but her eyes hadn't even slipped shut when he began wriggling. He squirmed restlessly in his seat, eyes searching the cabin around them for something interesting to study while his fingers drummed the outside of the takeaway coffee cup.

Beckett reached out to place a pausing hand on his arm. "Do you want a magazine?"

He scrunched his face in response. "Read the tabloids? I'll be honest- I really don't care that Brangelina are adopting their millionth kid."

Her lips curled up at his joke. "Do you really think I bought some trashy gossip magazine?" she questioned with an arched eyebrow. "No. I bought you some gadget thing. Something about the 100 most novel apps for your phone."

Castle's eyes lit up excitedly. "You bought it for me?"

She offered him a casual shrug of her shoulders and a small smile. "Knew you'd be bored until you could fire up your laptop."

A quick glance out the window confirmed the plane remained motionless beside the terminal. With the seat in front of her too far away in first class to simply lean down, Beckett unclipped the belt buckle around her waist and knelt down on the floor to reach for her stowed purse. She'd just about tugged it free when she heard the overly loud throat clearing from the stewardess.

"Ma'am, I- oh."

The sudden silence from the attendant was followed with a loud gasp from Castle. Beckett barely had time to angle her head back up in his direction before the paper coffee cup slipped from his fingers and tumbled to the ground, the still warm liquid splashing all over her in the process.

"Castle, what-"

That's when she saw whom he was staring at.

The blonde bimbo.

The stewardess from Vegas.

Miss _Fun_ and _Uncomplicated_.

Jacinda.

She was here on the plane, and there was nowhere to go.

* * *

"I- uh, I-"

Castle stuttered ineloquently, barely able to choke the sounds out of his throat. He sported a classic deer-caught-in-headlights expression, mouth parted in surprise and eyes wide with panic. His entire body had seized, not even the tumbling of coffee all over his lap snapping him back to the situation at hand.

With a clenched jaw, Beckett quickly scooted back into her seat. At the movement, Jacinda's eyes fell on her once again. There was, of course, the cutting panic at Castle's surprise appearance on her flight all over her face, but also something of an apology. At least the woman knew how awkward this was.

"Your seatbelt please, ma'am," the blonde stewardess squeaked at Beckett.

The detective ground her teeth together and clicked the seatbelt over her waist without another word.

"Napkins," Jacinda blurted out. "Or paper towels. Let me get you some; help clean up this mess."

Even when the blonde walked away, Castle sat frozen, eyes wide in horror as they remained glued to the vacant space left by Jacinda's retreat. His mouth had fallen open, parted into a small _o_, but he'd long given up talking.

Beckett just shook her head at him and suppressed the frustrated groan in her throat. In a confined space surrounded by other people was not the time to start an argument.

Even so, she was still silently stewing when Jacinda returned with a handful of paper towels in her hand. The woman's eyes cautiously slid to Castle's for a moment with something of a silent question in them, but the writer was too frozen to notice. So without a word the stewardess reached over Castle to pass Beckett the towels.

"I bought you this-" Jacinda held up a small flannel, "-too. I'll have to ask to please remain seated until we've reached altitude, but once we're cruising feel free to use the bathrooms. Just in case you want to dampen the cloth to use as a sponge."

With a clenched jaw, Beckett nodded. "Thank you."

Jacinda took a step to leave then when she suddenly hesitated. Placing a careful hand on the top of Castle's seat, she half-leaned down to match Castle's eye level, pausing for just one more beat before speaking up. "Rick, I-"

Nuh-uh. Not happening.

"Oh I think it's best you leave now," Beckett interrupted, tone so overly polite it was threatening.

Startled by the detective's words, Jacinda pressed her lips into a tight line and nodded once before walking away, head down and tail between her legs. Once she'd left for good, Castle's eyes lowered to stare absently at his lap. His face had fallen, eyes despondent. The crest-fallen and ashamed expression he wore told Beckett this conversation was better off left alone until he was ready to pick it up.

Feeling the motion of the plane reversing underneath her, Beckett began patting the paper towels across her clothes in an attempt to soak up the coffee. No such luck. It had already been absorbed by her khaki capris, though some had trickled through to chill her bare legs. She didn't even bother with the white blouse she wore; by the time they arrived in L.A., the latte-coloured stain would most likely have set.

Beckett was still working on salvaging her capris when the plane reached altitude and began to level in the air. The moment the seat-belt sign dimmed she unclicked her belt and tucked it into the side of the luxuriously padded chair. Eager to head for the cramped bathroom, she placed both hands on her armrests to push off and stand when Castle finally unfroze. He placed a pausing hand on her arm, fingers squeezing lightly but insistently. When she angled her head Beckett found two baby blues already gazing at her.

It was another moment before he spoke, voice soft and apologetic. "Kate-"

She shook her head to silence him. Not the time, or the place. "Just forget it, Castle," she told him, a quiet disappointment to her voice.

There was another long silence after that, but this was _Castle_. This was the man who was constantly talking her ear off. They both knew he couldn't drop the subject so easily.

"Are you jealous?" he couldn't help but ask.

She snorted. "Jealous? No."

"Because-"

Beckett growled at him. He just couldn't keep his mouth shut. "I am _not_ jealous, Castle. God. We're married. How insecure do you think I am?"

"Okay, then- what's the problem?"

"The _problem_," she snapped, "Is that I'm tired because _someone_ woke me up before the alarm this morning for a quickie. The problem is that even after I've told you four times I don't want coffee, you buy an extra-large to share and offer it to me yet _again_. The problem is that you then proceeded to said cup of coffee all over me and don't even bother to apologise because you're so stunned to see Miss_ Fun and Uncomplicated_."

He paused for a moment. "So you're not mad she's here?"

She breathed deep, tried to calm the anger flaring hot through her veins. "Am I happy your old fling is here and ready to serve us in first class while there's nowhere to go? Of course not. I could definitely do without her presence. But it's not something that could have been avoided, and it's not something we can avoid now. That being said, it would be great if you could just _stop_ talking about her."

Castle rubbed his lips together and nodded absently, considering her words. Beckett waited him out for a long moment, giving him the offer of continuing before she made another attempt at the bathroom.

She was just about to stand when he leaned across, breath hot on her neck and voice low in her ear.

"So if you don't care she's here, is there still a chance we can renew our membership to the Mile High Club?"

* * *

**A/N:** I did consider Kyra (and even Ellie) for this one, but even though she barely had any screen time, Jacinda was more fun to write. Next up is the final part, and the one you have all been waiting for.


	6. Josh

**DÉJÀ VU**

* * *

**Josh**

* * *

Beckett let her eyes flutter shut, the sun high above her bright even through the dark sunglasses perched on her nose. Stretched out on a lounge chair beside the hotel pool, a content sigh escaped her lips slowly. She may have complained about L.A. at first, but Castle was right- this was heaven.

The sun's rays seeped through her skin, a hot bubble running through her veins at the warmth to work out every knot in her muscles as it travelled around her body. Every last care was melting away to leave only a blissful bubble around her, one not even the screaming children or splashes in the pool could pierce.

Then all too soon her cell phone was ringing loud and persistent beside her head, shattering the illusion around her. With a scowl creasing her features, Beckett held up the phone in front of her face.

Castle.

"Hey," she called out softly as she answered his call.

"Hey. Where are you?"

She blinked. "At the resort. Where are you?"

"In the room, where you're not."

She hummed. "Right. Sorry. I'm down by the pool," she explained. "You finished at the studio already?"

"Beckett, it's already six."

Her brows knit together in confusion as she tugged the phone away from her ear to glance at the screen. She cringed. It _was_ six.

"Sorry," Beckett apologised softly. "I must have fallen asleep. Been out here for hours."

The response she heard was nothing but concerned. "Hours? Kate-"

"Don't worry, I'm not burnt." A quick glance down at her arms and legs ensured that was the truth. "I'm all sunscreened up and under an umbrella."

There was a quiet breath of relief across the line. "All right. You coming back up, or should I meet you down there?"

Hm. Private room, or busy poolside?

There wasn't a question about it.

"I'll come up," she told him. "How 'bout you start up the Jacuzzi, and I'll slip into the little red bikini I have in my bag here and meet you in five?"

She could practically hear Castle grinning across the line. "I'll get the strawberries and champagne."

Dropping her phone into her bag, Beckett reached for the sarong that sat on top. She swirled the sheer navy material around the waist of her one-piece as she stood, covering her legs for the walk back through the hotel lobby. Bag thrown over one shoulder she began to weave through the rows of deck chairs, shielding her eyes with an open palm from the summer sun still harsh in the early evening. A quick glance around showed how few people remained by the pool, despite how she'd struggled to find a chair when she'd first come downstairs.

She was just welcoming the cool blast from the air-con against her skin as she entered the lobby when she heard his voice.

"Kate?"

Beckett wheeled around in surprise. "Josh."

Her ex-boyfriend nodded, a too-wide smile on his face as he took her in. "Hey. Long time no see."

She fingered the straps of her bag, adjusted its weight so it rested half-across her chest in discouragement. "I- yeah. Guess it has been a while."

"So how are you?" At least he didn't pull her in for an awkward hug.

"Good. Really good." She offered up a polite smile. "What are you doing in L.A.?"

"Conference." Josh threw a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the conference rooms, a crowd hanging around the doors as they emptied. "Hospital flew me out."

Slightly impressed, Beckett nodded. "They really set you heart surgeons up nice, don't they?" she joked lightly.

He shrugged modestly, a trait he'd never been while they were dating. "Definitely can't complain about this place. And you?"

Beckett pressed her lips into a tight line. That she was here with Castle was definitely not what her ex-boyfriend would want to hear.

"Free trip," was all she offered. "Otherwise, L.A. definitely wouldn't have been my first choice for a vacation destination."

"You always did prefer quite and intimate."

Beckett lowered her eyes. Forget herself and Castle; _Josh_ knew how to make the situation awkward all on his own.

With a small nod toward the elevators, she bid Josh goodbye. "Well, it was nice seeing you, but I should go."

She hadn't even taken a step away when he was backtracking and shifting his weight in front of her again. "How long are you here for?" Josh asked suddenly. "If you've got a night to spare, maybe we could catch up and have dinner?"

She dug a harsh tooth into her lip at his suggestion. "I don't think that's the best of ideas," she refused softly.

He paused for a moment. "You're not here alone, are you?"

She shook her head slowly. "No."

Josh sighed heavily. "Castle?"

She ducked her head. The action would tell him everything.

"I should go," she spoke quietly. Beckett flicked her eyes up to his, but Josh's gaze was focused firmly out the window, a harsh frown on his face as he took in the news.

But she didn't care. The man could scowl and sulk all he wanted; it wasn't her problem any more. It hadn't been her problem for years.

With a roll of her eyes she turned to leave. He caught her again before she could leave, this time his fingers snaking around her elbow. "How long?" His question was soft, but his eyes were scrutinous.

Beckett angled her head to the side. "I'm sorry?"

"How long after we broke up before-"

"I didn't go running straight from your arms to his, Josh, if that's what you're asking," she bit out.

Josh blew out a huff, dropping her arm to run his fingers through his hair out of frustration.

"Don't do this," she pled on a sigh. "Don't drag this up now. Don't make me feel guilty over this. God, Josh- we broke up so long ago."

"I'm not mad at you, Kate," he interrupted.

"Then _what_? Because you're looking at me like I've done something unforgiveable, when all I did was fall in love."

"But that's exactly it. You fell in love, but it was with someone else." Dropping his head, Josh sighed. "I don't know. I just- I was never happy with the way we left things."

She blinked. Their split hadn't been exactly mutual, but she'd thought it had still been amicable nonetheless.

"What does this even matter now?" she whispered, her head shaking in confusion. "It was four years ago. All of that- us… it's all in the past. How can you still care about it?"

"Because you would never just _admit_ you were in love with him."

Her eyebrows knit together with a scowl. This was the Josh she remembered. The petty man who couldn't just let the little things go.

"Fine." She slapped her hands together, leaned forward with a growl in her chest. "You want me to admit it? I'm in love with Castle. I was in love with him long before we were together, even if I wouldn't admit it to myself. But Josh- you need to let this go, because he's my husband. I'm not going to apologise for loving him."

* * *

Castle's eyes flicked over to the digital clock perched beside the television.

Six twenty-five. Nearly a half-hour had passed since he'd phoned Beckett and they'd agreed to meet in their room. Holding back the heavy sigh in his chest he reclined back against the bubbling jets of the Jacuzzi, letting the bursts of water work away his knotted muscles as he forced himself not to call.

But when she still hadn't walked through the door another five minutes later, he gave up all pretence of remaining casual about her whereabouts. Rising out of the Jacuzzi he reached for one of the two towels on the step, patting himself dry as the water ran off his body. He moved the two glasses of now-warm champagne and half-melted chocolate strawberries from their perch beside the tub, instead finding space for them in the mini-fridge in the hope they could be salvaged. Finally he threw a shirt over his head and slipped his feet into a pair of hotel flip-flops, quickly grabbing his phone and room key before slipping into the hallway.

The moment the double elevator doors parted in the lobby, Castle's heart sank.

Josh.

"Kate?" His voice was low- almost timid- as he called out to his wife, half-choked with some combination of stale jealousy and irrational concern. He cleared his throat, wishing his voice had been steadier, but it had the desired action. Both Beckett and Josh spun their heads in his direction.

"Castle," she breathed. "Castle, I-"

"It's been over a half hour," he told her icily.

As if not quite believing him she dug her phone out of her bag, her face scrunching as she glanced at the time. "I'm sorry. I-"

"It's my fault," Josh smoothly cut her off. "She said she had to go, but-"

"I was actually talking to my wife, thank you," Castle bit out. Josh barely recoiled at his words, though. Just pressed his lips into a tight line to stop from commenting further.

"Castle," Beckett hissed at him, eyes narrowed in a warning.

He couldn't help but snap back at her. "This has nothing to do with him."

"That's it. Let's go."

Before he had a chance to protest she was grabbing him roughly by the arm and dragging him toward the elevator. She jammed a hard thumb into the _up_ button, all but pushing him through the doors when they parted. The moment they slid shut to leave them alone in the square car, Beckett turned on him.

"That was really rude, Castle."

"You know what else is rude? Hanging out with your ex while I'm sitting in the room waiting for you."

Beckett stilled for a moment. "Are you mad at Josh, or me?"

"You," he growled.

"I didn't know I'd run into him!"

He nodded. "Yes. I know that. I accept that. But Kate, you could have just called me or even shot me a quick text. Anything to let me know that you'd be a while so I wouldn't be up there waiting for you."

"I was a little preoccupied defending our relationship."

"Why do you even care what he thinks about us? Why does it even matter to _him_? You broke up… what? Four years ago?"

"I know, okay? He just- he made me feel so _guilty_ that I fell in love with you and chose you over him and…" She exhaled a long breath and shook her head. "I don't know. I felt I needed to make it clear there was never a competition. But you're right, okay? I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was talking with him when I was supposed to meet you, and I'm sorry I didn't let you know where I was."

Castle breathed out a slow sigh. "And I'm sorry I was so mad with you. It was uncalled for."

Beckett pressed her lips into a small, thankful smile. "So… can we please try and salvage the evening?" she whispered a soft plea. "Pour some more champagne, slip back into the Jacuzzi?"

She slid her arms around his neck, her lithe body falling easily into his embrace as his own arms rose to circle her waist. Her lips pressed against his softly in a chaste kiss, falling away to whisper along his jawline.

"Let me make this up to you," she murmured, open mouth warm against his skin. "Let me make this up to you, Castle."

Mm. Yes. Okay.

Angling his head back just enough so Beckett's lips fell from his cheek, Castle curled a finger under her chin, tilting her head back slowly to slant his lips across hers. Hand leaving her chin he brushed his fingertips tenderly along her cheek and down her neck, sweeping her hair back over her shoulders before knotting his fingers in her curls. She moaned softly into his mouth, forearms behind his neck tugging him forward just a fraction closer as she deepened the kiss.

They were both too preoccupied with her tongue sliding into his mouth to realise neither had pressed the button for their floor. Without warning the double doors parted once again, leaving them exposed to all in the lobby.

Yet it wasn't until the echo of an overly loud, interrupting cough did they finally break away.

Castle panted as their guilty eyes flicked to the door, faces flaring at the sigh of the little old lady with narrowed, judging eyes. It that wasn't embarrassing enough, right beside her stood an hunched-over and awkwardly shuffling on the spot Josh.

Of _course_.

"Take it to your room, will you?" the old lady muttered as she shuffled into the elevator beside them, a bundle of white hair and oversized knitted sweater. Lips pressed together in embarrassment the couple slid to the side of the cart to give her room to enter, hands smoothing over the clothes they'd wrinkled already.

It was another moment before Josh boarded the elevator, putting his body between the doors and throwing a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the lobby. "You guys hopping out, or…"

"Oh, no." Castle shook his head. "Think we'll just take her advice and head up to our room."

Beckett didn't even elbow him in his side. Just choked back an embarrassed snort and ducked her head, face mashing into his shoulder to hide her flushing cheeks. Castle slid an arm around her waist, tugging her even closer to drop a light kiss to her forehead as the elevator began to rise.

Doctor Motorcycle Boy be damned; he loved his wife, and planned on showing her just how much.

* * *

**A/N:** That's it for this one. I know a lot of you asked for Kyra, but I feel she was so accepted by Beckett that there's not really a story there to tell. Thank you all for the wonderful response to this entire idea, though. So, **so** wonderful.

And as always, you can follow me on tumblr or twitter if you're interested in finding out what I might be posting next. Links are on my profile.

Kelli.


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